


‘cause your lips taste like peppermint

by majorlachdown



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Bruce Wayne Tries, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating, Clark Has A Nervous Laugh, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Nervous Bruce Wayne, Oblivious Clark Kent, bruce wishes clark was a mindreader, cuz saying your feelings out loud is embarrassing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:53:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29865285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majorlachdown/pseuds/majorlachdown
Summary: Today is the day. In the next ten minutes, Bruce will nonchalantly go in for a kiss from Clark and either come out the other side with a partner or a rejection.(Bruce has a plan. Clark doesn’t stick to it.)
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 11
Kudos: 150





	‘cause your lips taste like peppermint

**Author's Note:**

> this whole thing could’ve been over much quicker if bruce just opened his mouth and used his words, but where's the fun in that?

Today is the day. In the next ten minutes, Bruce will nonchalantly go in for a kiss from Clark and either come out the other side with a partner or a rejection.

(He hopes those are the only two options. Two very clear outcomes. Clark has said he doesn’t do non-serious relationships, but who’s to say he wouldn’t be okay with making out with a teammate one time and then forgetting about it? What if he kisses his friends on the lips platonically? What if — ?)

Bruce stuffs his hands into his pockets. He knows no one will be around the manor, but he looks around anyway just to be sure. Nods along to what Clark’s saying.

“I mean, the deadline is Tuesday, but I already feel behind, you know? Like there’s so much more information I’m missing or an angle that I can’t quite figure out…” He trails off, thinking and they walk down the path in silence for a few moments.

As casually as he can, he pulls out a tin of mints. It’s cold out, but his fingers manage to get it open quickly. He shakes one out into his palm and slips it into his mouth before offering the tin to Clark. “Mint?”

This is the first hint. Clark knows that everything he does is intentional. Hopefully, he’ll pick up on it.

“Oh,” Clark says, holding his hand out for one. “Thanks.” He pops it into his mouth and grins. “You know, it’s nice just to exist like this.”

“We’re not doing anything,” Bruce points out even though he knows what Clark means.

Clark doesn’t take offense. He turns to Bruce like they’re sharing a secret and whispers, “ _Exactly_.”

He has to hide his expression by looking at the ground.

“I don’t know,” Clark continues — a normal volume now as he muses. “I just like being with you.”

And, well, Bruce figures he’ll be revealing his hand in seven minutes anyway. “Me too,” he says before he can talk himself out of it. “I like being with you, too.”

This is the second.

Clark goes silent. He wasn’t expecting that. Bruce can feel his gaze on him, but he doesn’t turn to meet it.

Bruce shrugs with one shoulder when the silence goes on for too long, finally meets his eyes. “Maybe you should try focusing more closely on the coworkers. You’re going the personal family and friends route, but what about other relationships?”

His mouth opens and then closes at the sudden subject change. “That’s a good point, actually. You know, I…” he trails off again, that same considering look coming over his face. “That’s a really good idea, B,” he says after a moment. “Thanks.”

The mint’s almost melted on his tongue as he nods. He swallows and shrugs again. “You were going to get there eventually. Or come up with something better.”

“Maybe,” Clark agrees, “but it’s always good to get your feedback and your ideas. They’re always thought out.”

“I overthink things,” Bruce explains as he considers if he should go for it in five yards or ten.

“Sometimes,” he admits. “But that’s what I’m here for, right? To simplify things and talk you down. We make the perfect combination.”

Almost time. “Maybe we could be perfect together in… other ways as well,” he suggests.

Third hint. If Clark hadn’t gotten it yet, only a kiss will do the trick.

(Technically, Bruce could also just come right out and say it, but _that_ wasn’t going to happen.)

He turns to full on face Clark now, walking slightly sideways.

“Other ways?”

Bruce nods, and then, without preamble, leans forward.

Clark turns at the very last second, head perking up like it does when he’s looking at or hearing something miles away. “I’ll be back,” he says quickly before a sonic boom reverberates over the property and Bruce is left alone.

He stares at the space Clark was just in.

Well, then. That was a pretty clear rejection.

(This is what he’d wanted anyway if Clark didn’t return his feelings, he reminded himself. No talking, just a clear dismissal that would lead to them never having to speak or think about it again. A pretend emergency was probably the easiest way for Clark to get out of it.)

Bruce turns around and starts walking back to the manor with as much dignity as he can muster. He could avoid the Watchtower for a few days, lay low until they could forget the whole thing ever happened. He’s almost at the door when there’s another sonic boom (and a proximity alarm that he automatically turns off in his pocket) and then a Superman hovering in front of him.

“You were trying to kiss me,” he says accusingly the second he slows down.

“I — ” And Bruce would deny it if asked, but being faced with Superman while dressed as Bruce — not Brucie — as _Bruce_ in his raggedy sweatshirt with paint stains from Damian’s latest science project while newly heartbroken — it all felt too vulnerable.

He’s trying to come up with what he wants to say, stuck on the “I,” when Clark interrupts.

“Wait,” he says and then spins back into his previous outfit — a turtleneck with a scarf and jeans. Something simple. Something _Clark_. “Sorry,” he mutters. “Realized I was still in Superman mode.”

“It’s fine,” is the only thing Bruce can think to say. Then, “I apologize. About… before.”

“Apologize?”

Bruce closes his eyes. He’s really going to make him say it. “I apologize for trying to kiss you,” he grits out, eyes still closed. “I won’t attempt it again.”

“Uh,” Clark says. “You won’t?”

“Of course not, Clark,” he snaps, opening his eyes again just to fully convey his frown. “I’m not going to force myself on you.”

Clark stands there for a second, mouth open. “This may sound ridiculous,” he starts after another moment, “but I didn’t realize you were trying to kiss me? And then I heard — it’s not important — I mean, it was just bad timing.”

Bruce narrows his eyes at him. “Bad timing.”

“Bad timing,” he presses. “I would’ve stuck around for another second if I knew you were going to kiss me.”

He looks at him a little harder. “I see.”

“Are you…” He stops. “Are you going to try again?”

“I said, ‘I won’t attempt it again,’” Bruce repeats because there’s something daunting about trying the move again even if it sounds like there will be a positive outcome.

“Oh.”

“But,” Bruce adds, “I’m not going to push you away if you try it.” He looks at Clark.

Clark lets out a bark of nervous laughter. “I can — I can do that, yeah.”

And then, tentatively, he takes a step toward him.

Bruce is internally grateful for the way he’s trained his heartbeat to remain steady.

Clark makes a noise — an aborted flustered laugh — as he grabs Bruce’s chin, his thumb fitting right over the dimple, and tilts it.

Bruce’s breath hitches, so quick that no one else would have caught it. Of course, Clark is not just anyone and his mouth quirks up into an awkward smile at the reaction.

“Right,” he murmurs just when their lips are about to touch. Bruce can’t tell if he’s teasing or not. “Here we go.”

The kiss is — it’s good. Despite the awkward lead up, they settle into a rhythm quickly. Clark slips his tongue out and Bruce lets him lick into his mouth eagerly, the mint taste still fresh.

It’s cute, how enthusiastic Clark is for a simple kiss. His hand stays on his chin, keeping Bruce in place which is — firm, in just the right way. His other hand sneaks tentatively into his hair, fingers playing with the stray hairs on the back of his neck.

Bruce, for his part, doesn’t just stand there. He rests one hand over Clark’s chest, and his arm wraps around his waist to tug him closer. He’s the first to pull back, biting Clark’s bottom lip as he does so.

Clark, with his hand still on his chin, tries to kiss him for a moment longer before getting the message and dropping his arm. “Wow,” he breathes out, panting slightly.

“Was that a platonic kiss?” Bruce asks before he can stop himself. “Or, alternatively, would you like to forget about it?”

Clark’s cheeks are rosy, Bruce can’t help but notice, as he looks at him in confusion. “Um, no? To both. For — for me, at least? I… was going for a — ” he stutters for a moment — “a sexual kiss. And I’m hoping there will be more in the future, so, no, I wouldn’t like to forget about it.”

Bruce considers this. “As friends? As friends with benefits?”

“Er,” Clark says. “No, I meant as — uh, boyfriends? Partners? Uh. Dating. If we were dating.”

He blinks at him.

Clearly growing uncomfortable with the silence, Clark fidgets. Or, fidgets as well as he can with Bruce still holding onto him. “It’s alright if _you_ don’t want to date me, though. Obvi — ”

“Okay.”

He stops. “Okay?”

“Okay, I will date you.” Then, awkwardly, he pats the pectoral under his hand.

“Jeez,” Clark says after a moment, a slow teasing smile taking over his face at the same time a blush does. “Don’t get too excited.”

Bruce huffs out a bit of an embarrassed laugh. “I’m not any good at this.”

“That’s alright,” he says. “I couldn’t even tell you were going to kiss me.”

He hums, drags his hand up to the hem of Clark’s turtleneck and pulls him close. “What about this time?”

Clark lets out another nervous laugh that Bruce is starting to get used to. “I’m starting to catch on, yeah.”

The second kiss is even better than the first.

**Author's Note:**

> wow, my first superbat fic! i never write in present tense either, so i guess there’s a first for everything. also, i’ve decided that i’m obsessed with clark laughing when he's flustered
> 
> (are you imagining clark flying someone out of a burning house and then saying, “oh my god, he was going to _kiss me_ ,” in mid-air while the person is just coughing and recovering from a near death experience? because i am)


End file.
